


Finding Myself Making Every Possible Mistake

by Reign2Rain (orphan_account)



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - Angels & Demons, Angst with a Happy Ending, Getting Back Together, Idiots in Love, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-31
Updated: 2019-10-31
Packaged: 2021-01-15 03:11:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,642
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21246518
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/Reign2Rain
Summary: Matsukawa sighs. “Alright. I’ll come back later, your majesty.” His expression says, You get sentimental when you get drunk.No, y-o-u, Tooru thinks back petulantly. Drunk Tooru isn’t a sentimental Tooru.He's always this emotionally tormented. It’s just the toxin in his blood wears away the guard he works so hard to put up and then everything Hajime related consumes him.





	Finding Myself Making Every Possible Mistake

**Author's Note:**

> Title - New Soul
> 
> Warning: lots of BS! Nonsense & Poor Reasoning (mine or the characters? Maybe both)! Cliches! Lack of Humor! Zero Descriptions! Rushed (so rushed!!!!) Sitcom vibes imo (and that's effect depends on the reader ofc)
> 
> theprettysettersclub, happy Halloween dear! Your blog is hella awesome, you are hella awesome (senpai please notice me :p) and I hope you enjoy parts of the goop I have produced lmao :p :)

Oikawa Tooru is the youngest demon in history to have his own kingdom. But he’s powerful, with both spiritual energy and physical magic, and has earned a reputation for both his charm and skill, recognized across multiple magical worlds.

It’s kind of funny, the part where he’s in love with an angel.

—-

Ruling a kingdom is...interesting to say in the least. In fact, Tooru is too modern to think of it as ruling, really. Or a kingdom. It’s more like...a small society housed within a tiny city that’s listed underneath his name.

In full honesty, he really is a partial sovereign. For the most part, he and his councils are content with his limited interference. Their relationship works well—they are currently finalizing noise-control laws while Tooru is at home, celebrating his 99th birthday with his closest friends and Sora Yamato.

She’s a gorgeous demon with pretty brown hair that tickles his nose when she kisses his neck, twinkling eyes, and a hobby of playing dumb before later destroy her enemies. She might as well be his soulmate. But Tooru’s just not interested in courting her like his advisors keep trying to convince him to do.

Right now, she’s sitting in his lap, feeding him cake.

“Don’t want anymore,” he pouts, but swallows the spoonful of white mess anyways. “Want al-co-hol.”

Sora rolls her eyes—bless her—and turns her head over her shoulder to direct a question at the other couples tangled around the rooms and seating places. “Hey guys, how old does Kawa-chan turn again?”

Kuroo has Kenma in the cove of his arms, chin gently resting on the fairy’s head. “I heard thirty—what about you guys?”

Bokuto cackles while Akaashi just and shifts an inch away. Nijimura, Tooru’s old mentor, and the only demon—scratch that, creature—in the room who’s older than he is, rolls his eyes and downs his latest drink. 

“What, no, didn’t you get my retraction memo,” Matsukawa says, looking shocked. There’s a growing pile of shedded fur he’s been steadily kicking underneath the couch for the last three hours.

“_ Ours _ , Issei.” Hanamaki reminds. Tooru catches a flash of his fangs in the dim lighting of the room, but Hanamaki’s careful in retracting them as he presses his mouth against Matsukawa’s jawline. The vampire only uses them when he’s in the human world, looking for someone gullible enough to take home for a meal before he wipes their memory. He’s rather thoughtful like that, Tooru thinks, but ever since he finally got Matsukawa and him together, Makki’s been proclaiming his werewolf boyfriend _ fulfills all his needs. _ Tooru set him on fire for a full minute the first time he used that, but Hanamaki bit him in the ass later that night when was asleep. Their friendship is hella cool like that. Matsukawa nod and Hanamaki adds, “Not thirty, dear Kuroo, three. Accident with the zero.”

“Ha, ha, you’re all hilarious.” Tooru says, rolling his eyes. “‘Specially you, Sor.”

Sora grins in return. 

She knows the only reason she’s present today is Tooru would like the council to think they’re developing something, preventing them from sending more possible betrothal options. Also, she shrugged and said, _ cool, how can I help _ , the first and only time Tooru explained, _ you’re great but we can’t happen, sorry. _ She’s pretty awesome like that, and maybe it’s reason enough to like her for that, but they’ve developed a really nice friendship Tooru genuinely appreciates. 

“Alright, big guy, let’s do things your way.” She offers him her cup.

“Oh yes, let’s make him drink it all.” Makki says, sharing a look with Matsukawa, and then nodding to the room. There are thirty odd drinks not empty from the last few hours and he looks pretty certain he could convince Tooru to play clean up. Bokuto cheers his agreement and Kuroo and Matsukawa follow suit, adding in their own loud mouths.

Tooru laughs. Good company, good times. He takes her drink. GhoulSpirit, smoking graciously. The cheers double and Kuroo starts to clap when he raises it, then lets it slide down his throat.

— 

(When they were 16 and Tooru had confessed, _I want to play volleyball forever,_ but not all his insecurities, all the, _I don’t know’s_, Hajime had murmured, _then do it Tooru. _Paused. _I_ _believe in you, _it set Tooru ablaze. He’d leaned over to press his lips against Hajime’s. Fleeting. Perfect. And then he yanked himself off the floor, away, before he could see the shock, take the rejection.

But Hajime had _ tackled _ him, pinning him to the floor. Hajime had shook his head. His voice shook too, when he mumbled, _ idiot. _ And then he chased the air out of Tooru with a kiss that still sears him when he thinks about it, even with all the decades gone by _ . _)

  


Tooru grits his teeth. His head hurts like someone’s clapping his brain, his mouth tastes gross, and his feet are sweaty from sleep. He is in desperate need of a shower but there’s such a heavy lethargy through his body, and one in his head too, for the matter.

“You okay?”

Tooru takes his eyes off the ceiling and drops them to Matsukawa, standing in the doorway. He sits up and nods. Matsukawa does too, even though he knows Tooru is a liar. “Okay. Anyways, Takehiro and I were thinking about dragging you out for a day.”

“I drank four times my weight,” Tooru whines. They always go overboard on the drinking but yesterday seemed a little particularly extreme_ . He spotted Makki bringing three of his own bottles _. “I’m not getting up again. Ever.”

Matsukawa sighs. “Alright. I’ll come back later, your majesty.” His expression says, _ You get sentimental when you get drunk. _

_ No, y-o-u, _ Tooru thinks back petulantly.

He’s half right. Drunk Tooru isn’t a sentimental Tooru.

Tooru is always this emotionally tormented. It’s just the toxin in his blood wears away the guard he works so hard to put up and then everything _ Hajime _ consumes him.

—

The magical worlds live in relative harmony. They might all have different goals but no domain is opposed to peace. There are conflicts of interest of course, and skirmishes often enough. But no one’s declared war recently so Tooru thinks things are pretty good.

Angels and demons in particular have an interesting relationship. They’re not quite against each other...angels guide others towards self-actualization. The common idea is a friendly zap of emotion or epiphany as an encouragement when a human most needs it. Demons teach others to look for their potential as well—just not conventionally. They encourage resourcefulness. Remind humans they’re _ weak _and insignificant. It is up to the human to take the negativity closing in and be inspired to defeat it.

At least an hour later, Tooru is finally up. He slinks downstairs and eats in the kitchen, alone, in peace. Or at least what he thinks is, until he realizes there’s a really heavy breather behind him. Tooru swallows the last of his breakfast and calls, “Mattsun.”

The werewolf has chosen a dog form. Looks like a shepherd to Tooru. He slinks forwards until he bumps Tooru’s knee with his nose. Tooru strokes him, sighing as he does. Then pauses.

“Did you want some food?” Tooru says, his voice lowered to a taunt. “Beg, little bitch.”

A thump behind him. Makki.

Hanamaki stalks into view, on the other side of Tooru’s chair. They’ve been friends long enough for Tooru to know Hanamaki has just shifted back. “Better not be hitting on my boyfriend,” Makki says, no venom at all. 

“Oh, is he your boyfriend?” Tooru says sarcastically. “Didn’t realize, sorry!”

“Alright, alright, yes, you set us up—shut up, Oikawa.” Hanamaki waves a hand dismissively. 

Tooru sneers. “Do you know. I have seen the two of you make out. In my house. In my council chamber (they might be ambassadors from their own domains but holy crap, are they goofs; Tooru has no clue who elected them. On the other hand, they’re pretty damn good friends). Oh, once in my own bedroom.”

“Jealous?” Makki says. Mattsun whines and backs out of Tooru’s unmoving hand.

It’s not fair vampires have mind reading powers. And Makki using it on him? Tooru makes a note to revoke his friendship status ASAP. And rolls his eyes, for both of them to see. “Okay, yes, a little.” He sighs, mockingly. “Haven’t been laid in ages.”

“There are plenty of people who want to sleep with you.”

And when Mattsun pitches a whine again, Hanamaki shushes him. “Hey, coward. Either shift back and yell at Oikawa with me, or shut up.” He looks back up at Oikawa. “Right, you’re not interested in anyone...else.”

Tooru gets up from the table. He doesn’t need this, he’s 99 years and a day old, goddammit. He’s also _ so _hungover. Makki and Mattsun should be too.

“Oikawa.”

“What,” goes over his shoulder. The mansion is too big. Walking to the library takes forever. He could fly or warp, but that’s a little dramatic.

“You might not be interested, but we’re going to help you look for someone new.”

“I don’t want someone new.”

“Then go get Iwaizumi.”

The molecules he’s made up of nearly combust. Tooru whirls around. Makki always does this on purpose.

“No,” he says. His voice goes cold and his eyes darken. Power stirs underneath his skin. He doesn’t want to renovate this wing of the building but if Hanamaki keeps pissing him off then he’ll snap and the walls will explode. Powers are cool like that.

“Why not.” Matsukawa shifts back, his footsteps joining Hanamaki’s as they trail behind, but stride with his intent and pace.

He really loves Matsukaw and Hanamaki, but really hates them right about now. _ January 4th. _ Shit it’s happening. _ Last match. _ His eyes close. _ Loss to Shiratorizawa. _

“Answer, dumbass!” Makki snaps. “He’s your soulmate. Stop being stupid!”

Tooru’s temper flares and with it comes a wall of black hellfire so thick he knows they’ll lose sight of him in moments. _ Ride back home. Taxi. Driver, eighty-one. _

A flash, Makki has teleported in front of him. Tooru raises his fist but Hanamaki _ shifts _ , flits underneath it in bat-form, and kicks Tooru. He growls but rolls with the hit. _ Hit. Car speeding. Red light-runner. Two dead onsite. Three critical condition. _

Matsukawa’s fur coarsens on command and he’s fast but it’s still hellfire. Yet Matsukawa takes it, high-pitched yelps as he leaps through. He starts to heal the next second but ash piles near his feet, the result of charred fur. _ Fuel line-severed. Gas spread fast. _

_ And now, Tooru sends his enemies to hell, the way he was. In flames. _

Tooru fires a shot of energy from his palm. It hits Hanamaki square in the chest and carries him off his feet, but he lands kneeling. Matsukawa growls but remains in front of the other. It’s a protective measure. He’s got little interest in hurting Tooru.

  


(“_ The stars say you’d make a great demon. What do you say, Oikawa Tooru. Interested?” _

_ Huh, he’d thought. _Everyone thinks about where they will go after death, how they will be remembered. But Tooru has always believed what one does in life is more pressing.

It was a surprise to hear demon was his best alignment. But he hadn’t minded the confident voice of the sorting agent, had nodded to them, had let himself be led away to be initiated. Had only realized an hour later, he was alone.)

  


Demons too have their weaknesses—_ it’s only natural. _ The simple ones hate others, hate superior creatures. The wise ones tend to fear boredom, or loneliness. Tooru thinks, half laughing, he’s got all of them. Deals with all of them, and that’s why he is a king

“Oikawa...” Matsukawa growls, voice modified by the tougher vocal chords. But he has nothing, nothing he’s never said before. Nothing Tooru hasn’t pushed away or negated in favor of not believing, in favor of running away.

  


_ (Hajime’s strongest alignment is an angel. Hajime accepts them while Tooru is miles and miles away, unaware, swearing his allegiance. _

The next two days are full of introductions to people, procedures and expectations. Tooru behaves exemplary and at the end, manages to ask his mentor, “My—my best friend isn’t here. Do you know where I can find him?”

Nijimura is tall, sarcastic, and `pretty great. He actually helps Tooru send the Sorting Agents a message. They reply the former human by the name of Hajime Iwaizumi is now an Angel. An _ angel.) _

“Um,” comes Kuroo’s voice from behind Tooru. “Are things all good.”

Tooru turns. Bokuto has a brow arched too, standing by Kuroo’s side. “Excuse me,” he says, and makes to walk between them. Everyone else not from the Cab dies a much later death—it just happens Tooru discovers they make really great friends in the afterlife. Either way, they becomes good friends with Hajime but don’t quite know the full fallout, but they know not to press. Except right in front of him, Kuroo and Bokuto are taking defensive postures too.

Tooru takes a deep breath. “I’m going to kill all of you, very slowly,” he promises. “Unless you get the hell out of my way.” He could teleport out, but he thinks he’d enjoy a good fight with all of this heavy tempting.

  


(_ Tooru convinces Nijimura to lead him on a visit ten seconds after the news. Nijimura shrugs almost as soon as he’s finished his speech. _

He sees Hajime. Yells his name.

Hajime looks over, within the next five seconds, has collided. Tooru remembers having his breath quenched, staring as wings as white like natural lighting unfurl, and summons his own—dark like nightmare material—to show.

Nijimura goes over to discuss with Hajime’s own mentor, subtly giving Tooru the time he needs. He opens his mouth. But, _ I love you _ doesn’t fall out. Instead, it’s, _ you’re an angel. _ His eyes leak and the first tear slides his face and down Hajime’s neck when he breathes, _ “ _ Always did do everything to look after me. Now the rest of the world gets you as a guardian too, huh. _ ” _

_ Hajime had coughed, as if to pretend he wasn’t going just as watery note as Tooru, and hugged him tighter _.)

  


“Always— “

The first word turns Tooru to stone. Hajime. _ Hajime. _ He’s not supposed to be here—not today, not right now—oh gods, oh gods. Tooru can’t move. Can’t breathe, can’t see, can’t feel, _ can’t can’t can’t— _

“ —never did let anyone else get their way, huh?”

“Iwaizumi.” Matsukawa. “You’re _ late _, jackass.”

“Literally, where were you when he was giving us an ass-kicking?” Hanamaki.

“Yeah, yeah. Good to see you guys too.”

This is his home. There is no way is any of the worlds Hajime is allowed here if Tooru say so. He has to go—if he won’t, Tooru will—_ what is going on _. Panic is—he’s seizing up, shutting down—fear, panic— 

“Hey, what about us?” Bokuto.

“I included you, you’re part of the guys.”

“Oh. Good.” Kuroo. “So. Now what.”

“I’ll handle things from here. See you.”

(_ Kisses in the classroom, in the locker room, in his bedroom, outside— _

_ Heartaches, fights. Tears and frustration and tears and more frustration. _

_ Fixes, awkward. Meaningful. _

_ Love.) _

Flash, flash; Bokuto and Kuroo have left. He should do the same. But his feet are heavy. He’s not sure if Hajime has placed a Cancel Spell or Tooru just can’t.

“You two as well,” Hajime says. _Don’t turn, don’t look._ _You’ll break_—he _won’t._

Their old friends obey. Matsukawa and Hanamaki spend a lot of time with Tooru, but he knows they also spend a lot of time with their other friend.

“I got you something.” Hajime says. “For your birthday.” He does every year and Tooru really likes them. Usually he gets Matsukawa and Hanamaki to sneak it in because he’s not allowed to show up then. _ There’s a reason _, and Tooru is going to kill Makki when he can.

The halls are too narrow for this pressing conversation. “I know I’m not supposed to be hee but—”

“Get out.”

“Tooru,” Hajime says, calmly.

“Please.” Tooru’s not mad. He was mad at Makki and Co. This is more like, he needs Hajime to get the hell out so he can break down in private..._ oh. _

His friends and their annual excessive-alcohol-consumption-encouragement is nothing new. In fact it’s group tradition on each of their birthdays—a short event that temporarily filters out all the year’s stress and lowers your guard until it no longer exists. But that’s why there’s a reason for Tooru’s Hajime-is-not-allowed-to-see-me-during-and-post-birthday rule.

Still, yesterday’s drinking seemed a little excessive. _ Makki brought three of his own bottles _ . Hajime respects his wishes so the only explanation is his friends have purposely convinced Hajime to break it _ . Traitors _.

“It’s a flare card,” Hajime says. “Set it on fire when you need me.” It’s dumb, considering they can call telephatically anytime. But Hajime always impresses him by being more thoughtful than Tooru thinks he’s capable of; there’s probably some hidden use he can’t think of at the moment.

“Okay,” Tooru says, “Now get out.”

A whoosh. Tooru counts to 10 before he turns and picks up the square, then starts walking again, just so he has something to do. The library is still too far.

—- 

****

_ The first few years when they adjust to their new lives, everything is fine. _

Things with Hajime are good. It turns out demons taking angels for mates isn’t any weirder occurrence than it is for a siren to take a necromancer, or two creatures of the same domain. Even though their schedules are different, they make time to see each other plenty and life is blissful. Tooru thinks this is what they would’ve been like, attending university.

The work is good too. Inspiring passion has always been one of Tooru’s natural talents. Completing an assignment well gives Tooru a rush. His first, is this young woman, talented and bright, but stuck in a bad job and a bad relationship. Neither of the options have any future potential. Tooru is a subtle force in her subconscious, challenging her work, and soon enough, she brings up the possibility of leaving the company with her boyfriend. He tells her it’s a terrible idea—reacting as Tooru predicted.

She dumps him and quits within the same week. Nijimura actually praises him and Tooru grins. He already knows he’ll make a good demon.

Then he returns home, curls up with Hajime, and they talk the nights away. 

Tooru starts to think this is what things would’ve been like if they’d been allowed to grow old together.

  
  


And then he does something stupid.

Kageyama is in his mid 20s. He’s done spectacularly on the National Team every year, ever since they sent him an offer that he accepted and then never looked back. The first game he debuts in after the starting setter rolls his ankle is the last time he isn’t the default starter.

It’s cruel, that out of the billions of spirits in the worlds, Tooru is assigned _ Kageyama _.

The assignment itself is simple. Kageyama’s team isn’t meeting his expectations. They’re okay people and they’re all individually talented, but they suck as a team. And lately, Kageyama has been acting like his old self, the terrible guy with the right intentions but wrong actions. Tooru’s job is to rile Kageyama up, frustrate him until he realizes that once again, history is repeating, and that what he needs to do is to form a connection with his teammates. His wing spiker isn’t by his side anymore; he needs to do it on his own. Tooru is to give him a push and point him in the right direction.

But it turns out Tooru can’t let the past go.

Kageyama is standing where Tooru should’ve been. But what’s worse, is Tooru sees himself in the former starter, the one Kageyama has replaced. Tooru can imagine the contortion in the face with the pain, the curve of his back when he sits out and watches—Tooru feels the defeat as if it were his own. It could’ve been him, his knee, his ACL. It could’ve been him, being pulled out of the court for the game—a lie, for forever—so a brighter star can shine in his place. He could’ve been living his nightmare

It completely unravels him. And Tooru gets unprofessional. He reminds Kageyama things are the same as before, except Hinata isn’t there—Hinata, who changed him, saved him, is the reason he is where he is now. _ Where is he? _ He whispers, _ Hinata gave you everything and now you’ve left him behind. _

Kageyama sends his coach a resignation letter.

(Tooru hates himself a little.)

Hajime finds out three days later. 

“I can’t believe you,” he hisses, raking a hand through his hair. He stomps forward and then turns to come back when he’s too far from Tooru, who trails behind.

“Well guess what, it happened.” Tooru says, cold. And he means his actions, but he also means the accident. The situation doesn’t matter, he will never not be defiant.

He knows he made a mistake. But he doesn’t need the person he cares about the most telling him he did.

“Gods, were you always like this?” Hajime growls.

“What’s that supposed to mean,” he stops moving. 

Hajime looks at him. Tooru can’t read his expression. He’s not sure if it’s because his head is too heavy with being blinded by the rising storm of his own emotions. Or he doesn’t know Hajime anymore.

“You wouldn’t have done this if we were alive.” _ You’ve changed. _

What, he wouldn’t have made Kageyama miserable? “You don’t know that!” Tooru shouts. “Because we’re dead!” He’s knows himself. He most definitely would’ve, tried and succeeded. And then maybe the coach finds out and Tooru leaves, disgraced, with only himself to thank for being self-destructive.

_ Except, _ Tooru thinks, if he was there, then Hajime would be to. If Hajime was there, then maybe yes, things would’ve worked out all right. Except all of these are hypotheticals and there’s pressure from frustration building behind Tooru’s eyes.

“You’re right,” Hajime looks like he hates this argument as much as Tooru does—but why are they having it? “I don’t know...you’ve been different since...the accident.” 

Tooru laughs, and it’s dark and ugly. “We’re dead. What, do you want me to still pretend things are the same. Do you want to talk about what universities we’re going to and how we’re going to deal with a long-distance relationship, or if we want to try at all.” He hadn’t realized there was so much resentment but clearly there is and all of it is surging up to the surface now.

“I’ll do whatever you want me to do,” Hajime says softly.

Tooru ignites his fingertips and lets the flames curling up mesmerize him. “I think we should take a break.” He doesn’t mean it, he’s sprouting bullshit because he’s hurt, _ don’t believe me, don’t listen to me— _

Hajime looks at him. Once, Hajime would’ve yelled, _ talk to me, you shit, you’re my best friend. _

He would’ve said, _ talk to me because I care about you, I want to help, don’t shut me out. _

“Okay,” says Hajime.

He flies away and Tooru doesn’t look back. Tooru may not be the same but neither is Hajime.

—

They don’t talk for weeks. Tooru stays locked up in his room, crying for half of the time and crawling out of bed to sit on the roof and look at the stars for the rest of the time. Nijimura writes up an excuse for him for work—bless his soul. Matsukawa and Hanamaki only find out after Tooru’s blows them off at least dozens of times and finally, Nijimura explains.

Eventually, Tooru runs out of tears (not really, he just gets tired of crying) and the gap yawning in his chest starts to fill with boredom instead. Again, Nijimura is his hero (he becomes one of Tooru’s favorite beings and they get into their own adventures much later). He riggs up a couple of things Tooru can do with strangers who know nothing about him. It’s comfortable and their praise does a little good to his career-wise ego.

And then he gets a letter.

_ Do you still love me, _it reads.

_ Of course, _he thinks.

_ How can you ask that, _ is what he feels. But it is his fault; he has brought this upon himself.

He gets so caught up in hating himself he forgets to respond.

And then he gets busy. Nijimura passes along a message that his employers appreciated his temporary work and they’d like to have him again if he’s interested. Tooru says he is. Just as he once buried his feelings by devoting himself to more practice, he does the same by taking more responsibilities.

By the time he sends back, _ Of course, _he’s reworded it about a thousand times and removed explanatory paragraphs of all his emotions, before realizing there is no better way to answer the question.

— 

Tooru thinks the reason he can’t deal with Hajime in person is because he doesn’t know how to apologize. He’s never had to in the past, not with Hajime. But things are different now.

Three days after Tooru sends his response, is the first time Hajime visits him, while Tooru is doing a mission in the human world.

Hajime sneaks up, landing behind him. “Hey.”

Tooru nearly has a heart attack. 

“I’m still in love with you,” says Hajime, without any prelude or and finesse.

Tooru opens his mouth. And then closes it, the apology caught stuck in his throat. Just seeing Hajime is turning him into a mess. “I couldn’t cope with losing it all.” Tooru admits, and the damn breaks. “I mean, not all. You were with me...but everything else—it wasn’t the same either? “ He’s a mess, he’s a mess.

“Things didn’t bother you until you saw him.” Hajime finishes, quietly. The way he holds Tooru’s gaze speaks volumes of how Hajime too was aware of the possible parallels; that instead of Kageyama alone, it could’ve been Kageyama and Hinata; that it could’ve been Tooru and Hajime. He exhales. “I know. I just...I think—” And the fact that he’s just as terrible as Tooru is with wording his feelings is a small comfort. “I wasn’t really mad about Kageyama. I was surprised…didn’t know how you felt until our friends beat the shit out of me.” He offers Tooru a small rueful shrug before it darkens a little more serious. “And then you said…”

“I’m sorry,” Tooru says. The words finally fall out the right way. “I didn’t mean it—I wanted my space and—” He ducks his head. His ears burn with embarrassment and nostalgia. “You know how I get.”

“Me too.” Hajime says gently. “Wanted to help. Didn’t know how. Guess some things never change, huh?” It’s a quiet retraction in the same key of apology Tooru’s been using, but it also isn’t, _ we haven’t changed _ , because they have. It’s more... _ change isn’t bad. Change is just change. _

Tooru makes an unintelligible noise. _ He loves Hajime. _

“So, er,” Hajime says, shoving his hands into his pockets, suddenly once again Tooru’s awkward, adorable, fourteen year-old _ Iwa-cha _n. “Not to be grossly domestic. But will you get back together with me?”

_ Yes, yes, yes, the answer is— _

“No,” says Tooru, swallowing hard. 

“...no?” 

Tooru shakes his head. He can’t. Not after everything.

He’s not had Hajime for months. Nearly losing him has been worse than fighting a perpetual sense of inferiority to Kageyama, worse than never proving Ushijima wrong and showing him what an open mind meant, worse than not making it onto the national stage where he might’ve once belonged—this is home now and Tooru is happy with it. 

Hajime can say, _ you’re incomparable, _ can say, _ you’re not perfect, but I think you’re amazing— _Tooru will believe him. He believes in Hajime more than he does in himself, and maybe that’s not great but that’s the way things are.

Losing Hajime has been the nightmare Tooru wasn’t aware he’d have to fear.

“I can’t,” he says. His face scrunches him up, frustrated. But if he explains how he feels, Hajime will just think he’s being ridiculous, and maybe he is, but Tooru isn’t ready to not be.

“...okay.” Hajime says, probably thinking and coming up blank. “Um. Is this where I ask if you want to just be friends instead?”

“Yes,” Tooru says in a rush with more enthusiasm and relief than he means to. “Best friends—-you can’t take that part away.” 

“Best friends. Okay.” Hajime nods. “Okay.”

They say an awkward goodbye and Tooru goes home with what he’s sure is the weirdest mix of facial expressions the whole time. And finds a letter on his bed. It reads, _ I’ll wait for you. _

Tooru clears his throat, he’s not crying again, no. For half an hour he thinks about what to write. He comes up with nothing. Is about to leave the room and try again later when an impulse hits (demons can’t do their thing on other demons right? Right?? Nijimura refuses to answer.) and he scrawls out, _ dauntless _. He actually gets carried away. When Matsukawa calls later, he’s doodled a dozen miniature Hajimes and Toorus on both sides.

It starts like this, the healing.

— 

Tooru is three days over 28 when Hajime comes to his place and greets him with, “Hey.”

“Hi,” Tooru answers. “What’s up.”

Seeing Hajime is always a weird experience. Is it getting easier? Hard to say.

“Tell me why.” 

Tooru knows what he means exactly. “Do I have to?”

Hajime fixes him with a look but at least Tooru isn’t playing dumb.

Tooru sighs. “All right.” He pauses, just a second to gather himself for a conversation he wasn’t expecting to have today. “I love you but I don’t want to ever break up with you again because it was terrible so let’s just be friends instead because you can’t get rid of me this way I won’t let you.”

Hajime does call him, “Idiot,” like Tooru expects. In fact, he uses about a hundred synonyms and puts frames them with very colorful adjectives.

  


The bashing comes to an abrupt ending, a sigh, “But...alright.”

Tooru doesn’t understand.

“What?”

“I respect...you and all of the stuff you said. I think you’re an absolutely brainless extraterrestrial,” Hajime says, raising his brows. “But yeah.” When Tooru still can’t say anything else, he sighs. “Look, I don’t like it, obviously. But for one, if that’s what you want, then that’s what I’ll give you. And for another, there’s nothing I can do anyways, right?” 

Tooru recovers pretty quickly. Nods and nods, incapable of much else.

“Okay,” Hajime says, very final-like. “I have to go—I’m applying for this new division they want to put in.”

Tooru mumbles, “Yeah. Good luck.”

Hajime looks at him. He doesn’t say, _ love you _, but Tooru’s pretty sure he’s thinking it. And then he’s gone.

Tooru tells himself he’s limiting himself to fifteen minutes of contemplation. He ends up getting Kuroo to cover him for the day. All the thinking doesn’t lead to much good. No new conclusions. All thoughts lead back into the ocean—_ love you too. _

— 

For Hajime’s 36th birthday, Tooru gets him a dragon.

Hajime adores it forever and gets three more to ‘keep it company’. He also gets into dragon riding which is pretty dumb considering he flies as fast as Tooru does, but Tooru is glad. Whatever makes him happy.

—- 

For his 85th birthday, neither Matsukawa nor Hanamaki nor Nijimura, or any of his other close friends is in his home, waiting to surprise him with food and drinks. He pouts and the pissy-level only rises when he finds no one when he calls each one of them personally. He hesitates when he thinks about messaging Hajime, because, it would break tradition. On the other hand, he hasn’t touched any drinks yet. But that could change.

While he debates about it, the doorbell rings.

It’s a terrifying and unpleasant experience to open it and see Kageyama.

Tooru shrieks. “Holy shit, there’s a ghost!” And slams the door shut.

“Oikawa-san,” comes Kageyama’s voice. He’s chosen the form of the young man Tooru remembers and has loathed for far too long. “Please let me in.”

Tooru cracks at least three jokes in succession and Kageyama bears them all. So because he has nothing better to do (seeing as his stupid friends have failed him, so typically them), he says alright and lets Kageyama step through the threshold.

“So. I’m, uh, an angel.” Kageyama says, shifting awkwardly from foot to foot. He reminds Tooru strikingly of Hajime. Tooru wrinkles his nose. “Got here half a year ago? And uh, Iwaizumi-san—”

“No,” Tooru groans, rolling off his couch, landing painfully, and smushing his face into carpet.

“—has been my mentor, and um, I’m here to apologize.”

Tooru flips over. “Continue.”

Kageyama’s expression says, _ well that was actually it, _ and it’s something so grossly Tooru, he goes back onto his stomach to make more unintelligible noises into the carpet. It’s a full minute before Kageyama says, “Um. Oikawa-san.”

“Yes, what do you want. Sorry you’re dead, but can’t help you, aha.” Damn, Kageyama dies past the life-expectancy? Damn.

“I visited your grave every year.” Tooru blinks. He was not aware. “I still think of you as one of my greatest influences on myself and my play. ” Again, not aware. “I looked up to you a lot. Mostly until I realized you kind of have a bad personality.”

“I’m going to stop you right here,” says Tooru. It certainly looks like Kageyama has a lot to say and Tooru won’t lie and say he’s not interested in hearing them. But, “I’m going to tell you something. You know when you quit volleyball when you were in your twenties? Sorry, partially...all my fault.” He even means it. Guilt in hindsight is always a bitch but Tooru would think he usually earns it.

Kageyama blinks. “Er, yes, Iwaizumi-san explained that part.”

“Oh.” Tooru frowns. Is that his cue to _ not _ talk about how he’s checked up on Kageyama since he screwed up, and that was genuinely delighted when the other setter flew around the globe looking for Shrimpy? Or that Tooru kinda cheered for them? Or that Tooru was _ really _ impressed when Shrimpy calls the national head coach a month after they get together and the day after he finds out Kageyama quits and ends up finding him? “So.”

“So. I guess I want to thank you for bringing me Shou—Hinata.” He clears his throat. “And say we can move past the other part.” The _ Oikawa screwed up part. _

“Okay.” Tooru nods. Wow. This is a surprise, but dang, pretty good one. “Then please continue.”

Kageyama clears his throat again before he says a couple of more things to the tune of his first couple of statements.

Tooru nods throughout them. At the end, he stands up, and holds his hand out. “Alright.”

Kageyama stares for a second before standing and reaching for it. “Um.”

“You’re an okay kid.” Tooru says. “To be honest, I’m never quite going to like you, but that has more to do with me than you.” He sighs. “Anyways, if you ever have problems, shoot me a message and I’ll come and help. I guess.”

“Oh-okay.” Kageyama says, still obviously very nervous. He lets Tooru give him a hard thrash of a shake before he releases his loose grip and bows. “Thank you, Oikawa-san?”

Tooru gives him the smallest real grin he can and when Kageyama starts to grimace—his attempt, Tooru knows, trying not to laugh—Tooru shoos him out the door. And leaves Hajime a letter. 

_ Good present. 10/10 would not recommend though. Tobio-chan is yucky. _

He hopes Hajime laughs out loud and then gets in trouble with his superiors. Serves him right for sending Kageyama to Tooru’s home.

  


(_ Sorry. Will get you better next year. _

It’s signed, _ Love, Iwa-chan _

Tooru doesn’t melt.

He does. )

— 

He won’t lie, he considers the possibility of getting back with Hajime all the time. What it’d be like to be able to kiss Hajime again. What it’d be like to talk to him with nothing shuttered between them, nothing holding them back from saying all the things they’d like to say, and sharing new memories together. 

If he contemplates the worst possible outcome, the answer is, _ you lose Hajime again. _ It doesn’t matter that he brought it upon himself, he hated it. Tooru might be the one who asked for friendship, but by the time he hits 30, he looks at them and sees how restricted they are always pretending their feelings aren’t there, and realizes he’s already he’s done exactly what he feared.

— 

He can still change things.

— 

****

Tooru might be a mess from today—relieving your history with the person you care about most will do that to you, bringing back each memory brings back every emotion accompanying it. (He’s skipped over parts where Hajime is the one who breaks and Tooru puts him back together—Hajime miserable hurts like a special type of hell.) And in the end, knows he’s still in love because when he sees it all, the good, the bad, and the grey, the only feeling he has is, _ I want more of it. _

He’s long walked past the library. Gotten out the door, and just keeps walking with no particular destination. The alarm’s gone, leaving him thinking he’s thirsty. Cold water would be very good. Or tea—ooh, Tooru kinda wants some kind of tea. There are plenty of ways he could get it. Teleport back to the kitchen and wait for someone he can show his eternally-flawless puppy face to. Steal some from any local citizens—he’s technically the king and a case of abused power is probably in need. 

“Yo.” He taps his temple to calls Nijimura. This’ll be faster. “Can you bring me some green leaves, a cup, and water.” 

“I’m busy.”

Liar. But since Nijimura’s made the mistake of picking up, Tooru will press him. “Doing what?”

“Being hungover.” Nijimura yawns. Has the lazy bastard just woken up? “Hey, did we have a drinking contest or am I thinking of last year?”

“Last year,” Tooru answers. “Wanna come and keep me company?”

“Not really.” Nijimura says. “Wanna tell me why you nearly charcoaled your friends?”

“I was hungry.” Tooru quips easily. “Correction, I was _ hangry. _ The boys were local. You know how I get my fast food cravings.”

“Yeah, yeah.” 

Nijimura’s voice doesn’t change except volume—because he’s warped right in front of Tooru. “Yo.”

Tooru beams. He throws his hands around Nijimura. “My favorite person in the world!”

“Let go,” Nijimura says, shoving him away. “I don’t want your boyfriend going after me in my sleep.”

“Don’t have a boyfriend,” he says, breezy after an initial shock. Nijimura’s such a bitch, boy is Tooru going to get him back for that one. “And where’s my tea.”

“Tell that to your boyfriend.” And before Tooru can protest, Nijimura quips, “I’ll get you tea if you teabag me,” with a shitty grin. He might not be Mattsun or Makki but he can get pretty gross when he wants to. Or maybe they’ve rubbed off on him.

Tooru makes the ugliest face he can. “You’re disgusting and I’m revoking your mentorship license.” That’s a lie. Nijimura is like a cool older brother. Tooru’s pretty lucky to have him.

Nijimura shrugs. “You should really call your friends and apologize.”

Tooru waves. He will, he will. It’s only been an hour. Also, they owe him one too so on second thought, maybe _ he won’t _.

“Oh, also can I take a look at his gift? I kinda wanna know what it does.” 

Tooru hands it over. He does too, to be honest. Nijimura turns it over a few times between his fingers.

“How do you feel?” Nijimura asks, and it’s obvious he’s referring to everything.

“Not great.” Physically? Not good. Emotionally? Not good. “I miss him.”

“So get back together.” Nijimura prompts. “I know you’ve got your, _ I don’t want to lose him _ stuff because he’s so important to you, but maybe you should think about, I don’t know, _ making both of you happy?” _

Tooru hates to admit it but he’s starting to think about it seriously. Not that he hasn’t always, he’s just beginning to picture himself doing it.

“Good.” Nijimura gives him an approving nod. _ Is he so transparent? Probably. _ The older demon flicks his wrist. 

The flare card hits his palm and Tooru’s fingers close around it reactively. He’s about to banter back with someone super witty when Nijimura disappears. In the next second, the object in his hand crumbles into dust and Tooru thinks, _ that bitch! _

He lit it before he threw it back? Tooru lets the dust trickle out of his hand. Rude. Smooth, but _ rude. _

A flash of white, and then Hajime is there, in front of him. _ Hajime in front of him. _

“You called?” Hajime says, and looks as surprised as Tooru does.

Well. “Technically, no. Nijimura did. And then disappeared.” Tooru waves to the general Nijimura-less vincidity. He thinks he’s doing pretty good for _ ohgodsHajimeishere. _ “I didn’t know he lit it.”

“Oh. So, um. Do you want me to go back?” Hajime scratches his neck. “Also. I wanted to tell you I didn’t plan on crashing...really.”

“Makki put you up to it?” guesses Tooru.

Hajime bobs his head.

“I’m going to kill him. Slow. Maybe rotisserie style.”

“Matsukawa wouldn’t be too happy about it, would he.” Hajime smirks. Tooru’s heart does _ not _ flutter.

“If you hadn’t showed up, I’d have them both well done. Like chicken. That I would eat.”

He’s humored with a nod. And then Hajime cocks a brow and looks the way he did when Tooru was thirteen and first realized, _ maybe, maybe I like him more than I thought. _ “Wanna get out of here?”

He’s giving Tooru the option to refuse. Any stupid excuse, Hajime will take it and leave him be. “Sure.” Tooru says, mouth dry. “Where to?” He’s feeling a lot better so he’s pretty sure he’s not going to do anything stupid, and since Hajime is here, they might as well talk. Get some things out of the way now, and then Tooru can go back to pining quietly.

“My place?”

Tooru warps and gets there first, landing in Hajime’s simple living room, right in the singles armchair. Hajime is there in another second and seeing Tooru comfy in his spot, takes the place opposite.

“So. What exactly did Makki say? Just so I can quote back everything and watches his face turn the color of terror.”

“You’re terrible,” says Hajime. He’s too poor of an actor to mask the affection in his voice. “But the truth is, he came to my house and said, ‘_ Iwaizumi, you rat bastard!’” _

His impression of Makki is a bad as usual, but it’s so familiar Tooru can’t help but grin.

_ “‘Oikawa and you turn a hundred next year. A hun-dred.’ _” It turns his blood to ice. Makki’s right. It really been that long. You start to lose track of time when things don’t change.

“And something about ‘not married, lmao’, so I threw him into a wall.” The angel leans back. “But then I realized he was right, so I listened to him and just showed up. Probably when I shouldn’t have.”

Tooru threads a hand through his hair, dividing it up wrong. Suddenly too nervous to care. “Yeah.”

“Sorry,” says Hajime. Soft, honest.

“It’s okay.” And Tooru really thinks it is. “I’m glad you came. And I want to say stuff. Apparently.”

Hajime stares, mouth open a tiny gap. 

“...Might be because I really still have more alcohol than healthy. I’ve been thinking about you. Us. All day.” Tooru says, honest to a fault, because he has no control over the words spilling out. “I don’t know what hit me but I was thinking...maybe...because...”

Hajime is biting his lip but it is because he doesn’t want to get his hopes up. Tooru’s been there, felt that.

“I still love you. Going to, forever.” Tooru says, a slight rueful smile, he can’t help. “Do you still—”

“Always,” Hajime’s intensity is everything. “The answer is always going to be, always.”

“Okay.” Tooru tries to breathe. He’s still afraid. Oh gods, he’s terrified.

But he’s got a light in the dark, and it’s how Hajime had said, _ I’ll wait _ , and has, _ all this time _ . It’s how he knows he’s not going to lose Hajime because when Hajime says _ always, _Tooru can and does believe him. That if things do go wrong, they can fix it because nothing has been harder than not having Hajime for years. 

Tooru’s not going to make Hajime wait another eternity,

He swallows. “Do you still want to—” 

“Yes.” 

The world is collapsing in and Tooru loves it. “Me too.” 

The angel stands up. Walks over looking absolutely, completely, wholly, dazed, with a grin starting to wash over his features. “Get up,” he says, as it becomes his entire face. “So I can kiss you.”

“You’re not supposed to say that,” complains Tooru, ears burning, neck burning, and fighting the losing battle to not look the same. He gets up anyways.

“I won’t say any more.” Hajime murmurs, leaning in, warm air brushing Tooru’s chin. Tooru fixes this distance too.

  


It’s hard for Tooru to believe he can be more in love with Hajime than he already is. But Hajime’s always had a way of making him believe.  


**Author's Note:**

> (If you made it all the way here!!! Congrats!! I am proud and impressed!!)
> 
> I haven't written in a while so if you enjoyed it (first of all?? Really? You make my day :)
> 
> Come talk to me!! I am lonely, I have free, I am watching Bee Movie (NO NO I AM WATCHING SHREKYYEEET)


End file.
